


The Deterioration of Chandler Bing

by IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fear of Rejection, Hard Time Eating (kind of implied), How Do I Tag, IWROTETHISONTOPOFTHEFRIDGEAHHHH, I’m going to hell, Job Loss, Mondler (implied), Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Thinking Oneself is a Failure, What Have I Done, self hatred, ’cause I suck a romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:30:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking/pseuds/IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking
Summary: “Chandler lied on the cold hard street. People were starting to gather around the sprawled out man, watching in morbid fascination. His blood pooled around him, the deep reds scarring the pavement to the point where it almost resembled a form of modern art. His clothes fanned around him, looking as they too had given up on life.”Or the downward spiral that is Chandler Bing’s life.I’m not sorry.





	The Deterioration of Chandler Bing

I’m Chandler ran with his friends as they chased after the cab Pheobe was driving. All of them were a bit tipsy as they ran, laughing and giggling all of the way. None of them even knew why they were chasing Pheobe. Something about a meatball sub? None of them cared as they ran through the frigid streets without jackets. Most of the group didn't even have shoes on, not thinking twice as they chased Pheobe out of the apartment. Chandler let out a loud laugh as Pheobe flipped them off, hand sticking out the window. The fun went on late into the night until they had passed out in Monica's apartment, Chandler sprawled out on the couch.

Could his life be any better?

* * *

 

Chandler walked home from work. He could have taken a cab, but at that point, he didn't really care. He could really use the walk anyway. He needed time to think. Think about what was going to happen. What he was going to do since he no longer had a job. The company had suffered massively and had to lay off many people, including himself. He would now have to find a new job. Now he would have to go home and face his friends who wouldn't even care. They couldn't even remember the name of his jo-old job. Chandler sighed, this was going to be tough.

* * *

 

Chandler trudged to his room after another failed job interview. It just seemed he had no luck, and no amount of jokes could score him a job as successful as his last. He was beginning to grow distant with his friends, he hadn't even told them he lost his job. Why would they care? He was just the guy who made jokes. They ignored him most of the time anyway. Why would this be any different? Anyway, he would find a job at some point. Right?

* * *

 

Chandler knelt on his bedroom floor, try to catch his breath as his lungs screamed for air. He had woken from a nightmare to immediately fall into a panic attack. He couldn't shake the images from his mind. In his nightmare, he had told his friends. They had shunned him. Told him how this was such thing Chandler would do, get laid off at work. They had told him how much of a failure he was. As if he didn't already know that. He had always known that. He had seen the way they would smirk and laugh at him. He couldn't let that happen. He was never going to tell them.

* * *

 

Chandler sat on the bathroom floor, wrists bleeding steadily. He was light-headed from the blood loss but didn't care. He deserved pain. He was a failure. All of his life he was one. His friends were only friends with him because he lived across the hall. They were friends with the Chandler he pretended to be, the happy Chandler. They would shun this Chandler, the Chandler curled up on the bathroom floor, in a heartbeat. They would be revolted at the Chandler who had a hard time eating now. They would laugh at the Chandler who has nightmares and has panic attacks. They would walk away from the Chandler who would die. Chandler slid the razor across his wrist again. You deserved that.

* * *

 

Chandler fell from Monica's balcony, tears rushing down his face as the wind swirled around him. His hair twisted in a swirl of brown as his clothes whipped around his body. All sound merged into one collective roar, only broken by the thumping of his heartbeat. He wasn't needed in this world. It would still chug along without him. He was unneeded, a nuisance. His friends would get along quite fine without him, he'd be forgotten soon. They probably wouldn't miss him, but oh how he would miss them. Joey and his dumb humor and flirting. Ross and his anger issues and love for knowledge. Rachel and her sweetness and ambition. Pheobe and her...well, Pheobe-ness. And Monica. Oh, Monica. She was amazing. Monica was the person he lo-

* * *

 

Chandler lied on the cold hard street. People were starting to gather around the sprawled out man, watching in morbid fascination. His blood pooled around him, the deep reds scarring the pavement to the point where it almost resembled a form of modern art. His clothes fanned around him, looking as they too had given up on life. One person turned him over to find a tear-stricken face that looked so...peaceful. It was as if all of his worries had been washed away to leave this empty man on the sidewalk. A man to never to crack another joke. A man never to grace the Earth with his smile. A man never to breathe in another precious breath. Chandler Bing was gone.

He was finally asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review. I mean it please. If you see any typos or have any criticisms please do not hesitate to tell me. You won’t offend me.


End file.
